


Bad Dreams

by Smowkie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: (mild) animal torture, Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Dreams and Nightmares, Hallucinations, Implied/Referenced Canonical Character Death, M/M, Nightmares, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 15:43:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17409668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smowkie/pseuds/Smowkie
Summary: The sword glinted in the moonlight and Stiles groaned as he twisted it in his dad’s stomach.“Please stop,” John said weakly, blood trickling down his cheek. “Please, Stiles, stop.”It felt so good, though, and Stiles sucked in a breath as the euphoric rush of pain and fear from his dad filled him. He grinned and John flinched. “I don’t think I will,” Stiles said.Stiles woke up with a gasp and he sat up and pushed the cover off himself, sweat making his t-shirt cling to his torso. Counting his fingers he slowly started to breathe normally again, and when the panic attack wasn’t threatening to take over he rubbed his face and looked at the time. 4 am. Well, three hours of sleep was better than nothing.Written for the prompt“Why are you being so nice to me?!”





	Bad Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rieraclaelin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rieraclaelin/gifts).



> Jessie asked for number 39, _“Why are you being so nice to me?!”_ on the angst/horror prompt list I reblogged the other day. I started this with the idea of a less than 1k little fic, and... here we are. It's angsty and kind of horrible, but I actually love it, and I really hope you do too!
> 
> Thank you so much to [Ana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AJenno) for reading this through and telling me it's good enough to post ♥♥♥
> 
>  
> 
> **MORE INFO ABOUT WARNINGS. SPOILERS AHEAD**  
>  This deals with Stiles' nightmares caused by the Nogitsune, so Stiles does very very bad things with swords and knives. There's a whole lot of blood.  
> The hallucinations only happen once, because Stiles is traumatized and sleep deprived, he sees blood where there isn't any.  
> The vomiting is fairly brief and not very detailed (twice, after dreams).  
> The animal torture is very brief and not explicit (once, in a dream).  
> The canonical death is Allison's. This whole thing takes place after her death. She shows up in Stiles dreams, and she dies in them, by Stiles' hand. Derek also dies in some of Stiles' dreams, but he's never in any real physical danger outside of the dreams.  
> About Scott - he's dealing with shit too. I personally don't think I'm being too hard on him, but if you love Scott, then maybe don't read this, or at least go in knowing it's not gonna be very Scott positive.
> 
> Please be safe, and if anything here risks triggering you, either skip reading this or ask me ([my tumblr](http://sterekshaven.tumblr.com/)) and I can tell you more about it. Also, it's not as bad as it sounds? I rather warn too much than too little, and yes, this has some bad shit happening, but it's not really worse than canon (except maybe the puppy, but that's so brief, and perhaps the vomiting, do they ever vomit in canon?). Still though, be safe.

_The sword glinted in the moonlight and Stiles groaned as he twisted it in his dad’s stomach._

_“Please stop,” John said weakly, blood trickling down his cheek. “Please, Stiles, stop.”_

_It felt so good, though, and Stiles sucked in a breath as the euphoric rush of pain and fear from his dad filled him. He grinned and John flinched. “I don’t think I will,” Stiles said._

Stiles woke up with a gasp and he sat up and pushed the cover off himself, sweat making his t-shirt cling to his torso. Counting his fingers he slowly started to breathe normally again, and when the panic attack wasn’t threatening to take over he rubbed his face and looked at the time. 4 am. Well, three hours of sleep was better than nothing.

• **•** •

Scott nudged Stiles’ elbow with his, and Stiles’ chair screeched against the floor when he startled.

“Sorry,” Scott mumbled. “You looked like you were falling asleep.”

Stiles forced a smile. “Yeah, sorry, didn’t sleep well. Thanks.”

His blank notepad covered most of the book on his desk, and he carefully moved it aside, holding his breath until he could read the title of the coursebook, only to realize he had no idea what they were supposed to read.

“Uh. What pages?” he asked quietly.

“136,” Scott said. “Are you-.”

Stiles waited for the question. He hated it, _hated_ it, but he so badly wanted Scott to ask, to _care_. “Thanks,” Stiles said when Scott didn’t say anything else.

• **•** •

_Derek was shirtless on the floor, writhing in pain with blood running from the wounds that littered his torso._

“So beautiful,” _it said,_ “isn’t he beautiful like this?”

_“Please stop,” Stiles whispered, “please don’t hurt him.”_

_Derek looked at him, his eyes desperate, scared, pleading, and Stiles grinned as he dragged the knife across his chest. When Derek screamed in pain Stiles shivered in pleasure._

_“Why, Stiles?” Derek asked weakly._

_“Because your hurt is the prettiest and your misery the tastiest,” Stiles said and stabbed the knife into his liver, making him scream so beautifully again._

• **•** •

“Would you pass me the salt?” John asked, and Stiles blinked at him a couple of times before realizing what he asked. He grabbed the salt and held it out for his dad, who smiled. “Thanks.”

Stiles nodded and looked down at his plate. It was almost full, yet Stiles felt like he would throw up if he ate the tiniest bit more. With a sigh, he took a bite. He mechanically chewed, tried to ignore how it grew in his mouth, resisted the urge to spit it out, then he swallowed roughly. Just a few more bites, just enough that his dad wouldn’t worry.

After dinner, as Stiles did the dishes, he looked at the knife in his hand, the light reflecting against the metal between the soapy suds. It was covered in thick red blood, and Stiles squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them again the blood was gone and he took a shuddering breath.

“Stiles?” John asked carefully, making Stiles flinch. “Are you okay, son?”

“I’m fine, dad,” Stiles said.

He turned to smile at his dad, who was standing in the doorway, a safe distance, watching Stiles with a worried frown. He looked down at the knife in Stiles’ hand, just a quick glance, but Stiles noticed it, just as he noticed the fear John tried to hide. He rinsed the knife and put away to dry, and he pretended he didn’t hear John’s sigh of relief.

• **•** •

Stiles stopped in his tracks on his way out the door. Derek was standing there, leaned against the Camaro, looking relaxed and too cool for school and… _whole._ Stiles quickly looked down at his hands, counted his fingers, and when he looked back up Derek was walking up to him.

“Hi,” Derek said and Stiles blinked stupidly at him.

“Hi?”

“Did you sleep?”

Stiles turned to look inside, towards his room, then he looked at Derek again. “Uh…”

“Did you sleep, Stiles?”

“A little?”

“Okay.” Derek nodded. “Come on, I’ll drive you to school.”

“What.”

“You look like you’re about to fall over, you shouldn’t drive when you’re that tired,” Derek explained as he walked back to the Camaro. “So I’ll drive you.”

Stiles quickly counted his fingers again, but it wasn’t a dream. Somehow it was real. He closed and locked the front door, then he made his way to the Camaro, to Derek, who was looking at him through the windshield, smiling.

• **•** •

“Derek drove me to school today,” Stiles said.

“Huh,” Scott said.

• **•** •

As he walked out of school at the end of the day Stiles realized he didn’t have his Jeep and he had no idea how to get home. He sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. He guessed he would have to walk.

“Hi,” Derek said, and Stiles nearly jumped out of his skin. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, I thought you had-, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Stiles said. He looked up at Derek, who was frowning a little, looking concerned. “What?”

“Nothing,” Derek said, and Stiles sighed. Right. Nothing. “Wanna go home?”

Stiles furrowed his brows, confused, and Derek gestured towards his Camaro. “Oh. Yeah, sure. Please.”

Derek was quiet as he drove, just like he had been in the morning, and Stiles leaned his head against the window and briefly hoped the vibrations would cause brain-damage.

• **•** •

_The sword glinted in the moonlight - he liked when it did that - as Stiles twisted it in Allison’s gut. Lydia screamed and the rush of Allison’s pain had Stiles shivering until her eyes emptied of life and she slumped in his arms. He looked up at Lydia, at her huge tear-filled eyes. He wanted her, too._

_“Come,” he said, but she backed up, panicked and scared, and that just wouldn’t do._

_He grabbed the sword, but it was stuck in Allison. He smiled down at her, and instead of just pulling the sword out, he forced it to the side. The handle vibrated lightly as he severed her spine with a satisfying crunch, and he laughed softly when she was finally cut in two. It was poetic, seeing an Argent cut in half, like one of the dogs they hunted. He finally looked back up at Lydia._

_“Your turn,” he said and delighted in the way she covered back, shaking in fear and crying over her dead friend._

• **•** •

Derek kept driving Stiles to school. Stiles didn’t understand why, but he was too tired to ask. It was probably for the best that he didn’t drive himself, he had hurt enough innocent people.

“Are you hungry?” Derek asked as he pulled out of the school on the third day.

“A little,” Stiles said. Not that he really was, but people liked when he ate.

Derek glanced over at him but didn’t question the lie. “What do you want to eat?”

Stiles shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, whatever’s fine.”

“Okay.”

Stiles frowned when Derek pulled into the grocery store’s parking lot. He considered questioning it, but when Derek got out of the car and looked expectantly at Stiles he just followed him. He trailed after him in the store, where Derek looked at… too much stuff. He tried to answer honestly whenever Derek asked him things though.

“Do you like eggplant?”

“Not really?”

“Zucchini?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Cream or coconut milk?”

Stiles almost gagged at the thought of eating anything with thick cream. “Coconut milk,” he said quietly, and Derek nodded and continued on, without getting any dairy products.

When they finally were back home, Derek grabbed the grocery bags and followed Stiles inside, and Stiles watched in confusion as he dumped the bags on the kitchen table and started to unpack them.

“You can go do your homework or nap or whatever, this will take a while. Unless you’re hungry now?”

“No, it’s fine,” Stiles said. He watched Derek another few seconds, then he counted his fingers as he went to his room.

He wasn’t planning on taking a nap, he avoided sleeping as much as possible, but when he closed the door behind him he yawned so hard it felt like he was about to dislocate his jaw, and he flopped down on the bed and stuck his cold feet under his cover.

• **•** •

_Derek whined in pain. He was hanging on a sword that was stabbed through him and into the concrete wall behind him. The sword and the blood glinted in the moonlight and Stiles smiled. Perfect._

_“Please,” Derek gasped out. “Please, Stiles, stop this.”_

_“Oh no,” Stiles said, baring his teeth as he spun the knives in his hands. He wouldn’t stop, not when he had Derek at his mercy like that, so beautiful, so-_

“Stiles.”

A hand touched Stiles’ shoulder and he smacked it off and threw himself away from it.

“I’m sorry, sorry,” Derek said as Stiles tried to force air into his lungs. “Can I do anything?”

Stiles shook his head and counted his fingers. “Dream,” he choked out. “M’okay.”

Derek didn’t say anything, but Stiles knew he was still there, still watching, as Stiles tried to calm his pounding heart and panicked breathing. He tasted blood, and he put a hand over his mouth as he gagged. His feet got tangled in the bedsheets as he scrambled to get out of bed, but Derek was there immediately, steady hands quickly removing the sheets and Stiles rushed to the bathroom. He slammed the door shut and he just managed to get his head over the toilet before he threw up.

He heaved a little, but he had barely eaten in days, so there wasn’t any more to get up, and it was a blessedly short time before he could get up and wash his face. Derek was alive. He was fine. He wasn’t hanging from a sword while Stiles used him for target practice or bad touching him with knives while purring about how beautiful he was.

When he eventually got out of the bathroom, Derek was in the kitchen, stirring a pot as the kettle clicked off, the water in it boiling.

“Do you think you can eat soon?” he asked as he grabbed the kettle and poured water in two mugs.

“Uh. Soon. Not now.”

“Okay, good.” Derek put the kettle away and smiled at him. “It’ll be okay for a while. I’m making tea for now.”

Stiles blinked at him.

• **•** •

The soup Derek made was the first thing Stiles had eaten in a long time that didn’t make him nauseous. Stiles’ dad liked it too and Stiles was glad Derek had made enough that they had leftovers the next day.

• **•** •

“Hi,” Stiles said as he sat down next to Scott.

“Hi.”

Scott didn’t look up from his book, and Stiles wondered why they still sat next to each other all the time.

“You okay?” Stiles asked, and Scott shrugged.

“M’fine.”

Stiles nodded and got his own book out.

• **•** •

Derek kept driving Stiles, and a couple of days later he cooked again. It was a casserole of some kind, lots of vegetables, and it looked creamy and heavy. Stiles still tried a little, he had to eat, he knew that. It was just as easy as the soup though, and his dad looked happy when Stiles took a second helping.

It was weird that Derek was there, talking quietly with John as they ate, but John didn’t seem to think anything of it, so Stiles ignored it. It was weirder still when Derek asked if Stiles wanted to watch something after dinner, but Stiles just shrugged and Derek started something and made himself comfortable in the couch, so Stiles sat down too.

• **•** •

_The puppy screamed and Stiles shivered in pleasure. Animal pain wasn’t quite as good as human - or werewolf - pain, but the look on Scott’s face made it worth it. Stiles picked up another puppy and Scott started to plead._

_“No, don’t hurt him, please Stiles, stop,” he said._

_He tried to take the puppy from Stiles, but Stiles easily batted his hands away. “You’re tastier,” Stiles said, “want me to spare the puppy?”_

_He twirled the knife he was holding, loving the fear in Scott’s eyes as he nodded. “Please, don’t hurt them.”_

_“Okay, as you wish,” Stiles said and drove the knife into Scott’s shoulder._

_“It’s okay,” Scott said and Stiles frowned at him. He twisted the knife, but Scott just nodded. “You’re-_

“-okay, it’s just a dream.”

Stiles sucked in a breath as he opened his eyes to count his fingers.

“Just a dream,” he wheezed. His breathing slowly calmed down, along with his heart. “Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s fine,” Derek said. “You were tired.”

Stiles nodded. He was that a lot.

• **•** •

_“Please, not dad, not again,” Stiles begged as he drove the sword through John’s body._

“But your suffering is what makes it so good,” _it said._

_“Stiles,” John breathed, blood gushing from his gut and mouth. “I love you, son, it’s okay.”_

_Stiles shook his head, no, it wasn’t okay, but he still twisted the sword - that glinted so prettily in the moonlight - and he still shivered in pleasure at his dad’s pain._

• **•** •

It had been weeks since Derek started to drive Stiles, but he still did it. Every morning he was there to pick Stiles up, and every afternoon he waited for him outside of school, leaned against his stupid Camaro. They went to the grocery store on the way home at least twice a week, and Derek came inside with Stiles almost every day.

Derek had cooked again, Stiles had realized it was vegan food he made, the things Stiles could eat, and they were sitting on the couch, watching some movie.

Stiles looked at Derek, who glanced over at Stiles with a quick smile before he looked back at the TV.

“What are you doing?” Stiles asked, and Derek turned to look at him again.

“Watching a movie...?” Derek asked, and Stiles… _snapped._

“No, what are you doing, Derek? Why are you being so nice to me?!”

Derek blinked at him, but he didn’t flinch, didn’t move, just kept looking at him. “Because you need it. Because you’re drowning in guilt over something that’s not your fault, because you’re shutting everyone out and when I hadn’t talked to you in weeks and asked your dad about you he didn’t know how to help you.”

“He’s scared of me,” Stiles whispered before he could stop himself.

“No, he’s scared of what you might do to yourself,” Derek said and Stiles scoffed.

“Like what? I haven’t done anything to me-.”

“Exactly,” Derek interrupted, “you’re not eating, you’re not sleeping, you’re barely living, and while I don’t think you’re suicidal I don’t think you’re far from it either.”

“It’s what I might do to everyone else he _should_ be scared of,” Stiles said. “You know how many I hurt, hell I hurt _you_ , why aren’t you scared?”

“First of all, _you_ didn’t hurt me, and secondly, really? I should be scared of _you_ hurting me? You’re not the Nogitsune, Stiles.”

“I could hurt you,” Stiles grumbled, strangely petulant at Derek’s so easy dismissal.

“Yeah, you _could_ , but you wouldn’t, not _you_.”

Stiles frowned. “I threw you into a pillar, I nearly broke your arm.”

“The Nogitsune did that.”

“I killed Allison, I stabbed Scott.”

“The Oni killed Allison, you weren’t even there when it happened, and the Nogitsune stabbed Scott, not you.”

Stiles pulled his legs up on the couch and wrapped his arms around his knees. “I let the Nogitsune in,” he said in a small voice.

“Yeah. And I let Kate in,” Derek said. “And Jennifer.”

“That’s not the same,” Stiles started, but Derek interrupted him again.

“Why not, though? Why isn’t it the same? Because I actually was conscious when it happened? Because I was 16? Because I was 23?”

“They manipulated you, Jennifer even used magic,” Stiles said.

“Yeah, and the Nogitsune asked politely and explained what it wanted before you let it in?”

“No of course not,” Stiles said.

“It’s not your fault,” Derek said softly and Stiles put a hand over his eyes.

“When did you get so annoying?” he asked, and Derek laughed softly.

“I’ve always been annoying, you’ve just out-annoyed me all the time before.”

• **•** •

_Derek looked perfect like that, writhing on the floor, smooth muscles playing tantalizingly under his skin as he whined and pleaded. Stiles let his fingers gently caress his cheek as he twisted the knife in his side._

_“Perfect for me,” he said as the blood wetted his fingers._

_“Please stop, Stiles,” Derek begged, so perfectly, like the dog he was._

_Stiles yanked the knife out of him, threw it away._

_“I’m sorry,” he whispered, fingers fluttering against Derek’s face._

“No, we were having fun,” _it said._

_“Please stop,” Derek whispered weakly before the life left his eyes and his head rolled to the side._

_“No, please, no, Derek, no!”_

• **•** •

>> _Alve?_

Stiles shook so badly that he dropped his phone to the floor just after sending the text. He left it there for the moment, flushed the toilet and went to wash his face and rinse his mouth.

“Stiles?”

Stiles startled and twisted around to look at Derek, who looked sleep rumpled and soft in plaid pajama pants and a too big t-shirt, his hair a mess. Stiles counted his fingers again, just to be sure.

“You’re here?”

“Yeah, I’ve been sleeping in your guestroom,” Derek said with a nod towards it. “Did you not know that?”

“Uh, no.”

“Oh.” Derek looked a little awkward, but then he crouched down and grabbed Stiles phone. “What did you want?”

“I just wanted to know you were alive,” Stiles whispered.

“I am,” Derek said softly, then, “can I touch you?”

Stiles nodded, and Derek gently pulled him into a hug. It was seconds before Stiles was clinging to him, crying against his shoulder, but Derek just stood there and held him.

• **•** •

“I’ve been wanting to ask how you are, but I’m not sure if you want that,” Lydia said, and Stiles gaped at her. “You look better, though. That’s good.”

“Uh.” Stiles did a quick check of his fingers. “I-. Uh, yeah. How are you?”

“Better,” Lydia said softly. “It’s rough, but it’s getting easier.” She frowned down at her hands. “Chris is moving to France, apparently, and he’s taking Isaac with him.”

“Oh.”

“I’m glad they have each other, no matter how weird it is. They need each other now, Chris especially.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said roughly, and Lydia tilted her head a little as she looked at him.

“You are aware that it’s not your fault, right?”

“I-, uh.” Stiles scrambled to think of something to get him out of the conversation, and he was relieved when the bell rang. “Sorry, class,” he rasped and fled.

• **•** •

Stiles had his laptop on the living room table and was reading his history book when Derek came in.

”Mind if I sit?” he asked.

”No, go ahead,” Stiles said, barely looking up from the book.

Derek sat down next to Stiles, and after a few moments he spoke again.

“History test?”

“Mhm.” Stiles put the pencil in his mouth as he scrolled to the right question on the example test he had on his laptop.

“Need any help?” Stiles looked at Derek, who nodded to Stiles’ book. “I like history, if you need any help, let me know, I could quiz you?”

“Huh,” Stiles said. He looked at the laptop a moment, then he gestured to it. “You can ask me those questions?”

“Sure,” Derek said and grabbed the laptop.

• **•** •

_Derek smiled when he noticed Stiles, who grinned. So innocent, so clueless. This was going to be fun. Stiles glanced up at the moon, then at his sword. He tilted it, smiled at how it glinted._

_“No,” Stiles said._

_“Hi,” Derek said and reached a hand out towards Stiles._

“Yes,” _it said and Stiles swung the sword._

• **•** •

“How did it go?” Stiles asked as they were leaving the classroom.

Scott shrugged, didn’t look Stiles in the eyes. “I have to go.”

• **•** •

Stiles leaned his head against the window. “Can you get brain-damage from vibrations?”

“Probably,” Derek said. He had his hands at the responsible ten and two on the wheel.

“It has to be pretty severe vibrations, though, right?”

“I guess.”

“A car window is not enough.”

“I… doubt that.”

“Good.”

• **•** •

Derek patted the couch cushion next to him. “I’m starting Doctor Strange.”

“That’s like the least interesting MCU movie of them all. Why?”

“I haven’t seen it.”

“Oh, okay.”

Stiles sat down next to Derek, who smiled at him before turning back to the TV, leaned toward Stiles a little. Stiles leaned a little too, until their shoulders were touching.

“Stiles,” Derek said softly, his hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

“Hm?” Stiles asked as he blinked awake.

“You fell asleep.”

Stiles stilled and looked up at Derek. “I slept? How long?”

“Almost four hours,” Derek said. “Come on, it’s a school day tomorrow, you should go to bed.”

“I slept for four hours?” He hadn’t done that in a long time.

Derek smiled softly at him. “Yeah, you did.”

Stiles put his hands over his face and breathed shakily. “Oh my god.”

• **•** •

_Why was it always Derek?_

_“Please stop,” Stiles begged, “stop hurting him.”_

“We like his pain, don’t we?”

_“No, I don’t, please stop.”_

_“Stiles,” Derek rasped, his torso filled with sluggishly bleeding stab wounds. “You have to stop.” His eyes were scared, but he still reached out for Stiles. “Please, Stiles.”_

_Stiles slit the knife along Derek’s arm, along his artery, and blood welled out._

_“So beautiful,” Stiles whispered as he straddled Derek’s waist and stabbed the knife into his neck. Derek’s head lolled to the side, his eyes staring unseeingly at nothing. “So beautiful.”_

• **•** •

“Derek,” Stiles said as he woke up. He gasped in a breath as he stumbled to his feet. “Derek?”

He made it almost all the way to the guestroom before Derek opened the door, looking more asleep than awake. “What’s wrong?” he asked, worry tainting his sleep rough voice.

“I killed you again,” Stiles whispered.

Derek took the few steps needed to reach Stiles and pulled him into a hug. “No, you didn’t, I’m right here, I’m fine.”

• **•** •

“How did your chemistry test go?” Lydia asked and Stiles smiled as he showed her his A. “Good.”

“Do I even need to ask how yours went?” Stiles asked and she smiled.

“Naah,” she said, but then her smile dropped and she looked thoughtful and a little sad. “I want to do something, not a party or anything, but just… something. I’m just going to school or sitting at home mourning, it sucks, I need to do something else.”

“Okay,” Stiles said carefully, feeling bad at not having thought about how Lydia was dealing with things, but worried about what she might suggest.

“Maybe just a movie night or something? You could bring Derek, we could watch-. I don’t know, something. Have popcorn. You know?”

“I’ll ask,” Stiles said. “When?”

“Friday?”

“Okay, yeah. Sure.”

• **•** •

“Of course, if you want me there,” Derek said when Stiles asked him.

“Yeah. I really do,” Stiles said quietly.

• **•** •

Scott looked at Lydia when Stiles got there, an angry and betrayed look. He said something to her, too quiet for Stiles to hear it, but he noticed Derek stiffen up next to him, so he guessed it wasn’t anything good. Lydia said something back before smiling at Stiles and Derek.

“Hey, guys, I’m glad you could make it,” she said, ever the perfect host. “Hi, Derek, it’s been long.”

She walked up to him and held her hand out in a way that gave Derek the option of either just taking her hand or hugging her. Stiles was a little surprised when he gently pulled her into a hug, but when Lydia’s lip wobbled a little he was glad that he did.

“It’s good to see you,” Derek said softly.

“You too.” Lydia pulled back and smiled at him, before doing the same to Stiles, giving him the option. He hesitated a moment, but he hugged her too. “Thanks for coming,” she said, a little muffled against his shoulder.

“Thanks for having me,” he said.

• **•** •

They ended up not watching a movie. Lydia had prepared a feast in snacks and drinks, and they sat in her living room and talked the whole evening. It was weird, but it was Lydia and Derek that talked the most. Stiles only talked a little, but it was difficult for him, to find things to talk about, to stay on safe subjects, and it was nice to listen to them too.

Scott looked hurt for a while, sat in a corner with his arms crossed and pouted, and then he said he needed to get home to his mom. Stiles didn’t think anyone believed him, but no one called him out on it, which he was thankful for. He knew how much Scott blamed him, almost as much as Stiles blamed himself.

“I should have left,” he said when Scott was gone. “So he could have stayed.”

“No,” Lydia said firmly. “It wasn’t your fault, no matter how much the two of you believe that, and until he gets that I’d rather hang out with you.”

Stiles swallowed roughly and looked down at his hands. He was grateful for Derek when he leaned a little against Stiles, pressed their arms together, and Stiles mumbled out a quiet, “Thanks,” that earned him a quick smile.

• **•** •

_Lydia screamed, loud enough that Stiles had to cover his ears as he stumbled back._

_“Let him go,” she demanded, furious, and Stiles laughed, delighted that she was so fierce. Her pain and fear would be even better once he had her. “Stiles, stop it, it’s not you, it’s the Nogitsune.”_

“She’s feisty,” _it said, and then Stiles stabbed the sword straight through her torso._

_He used the sword to lift her up and she wailed in pain. “This is me,” he told her, holding his arm out, “I want this, I’ve always wanted this.”_

_He shivered when she finally started to cry, soaked in her pain and fear, loved every second of it._

_“Please,” she whispered. “It’s not your fault, Stiles.”_

_He laughed. “Oh, but it is.”_

• **•** •

The thing Stiles liked the most about having Derek there was to fall asleep on the couch leaned against him. He almost never dreamed when he did, and Derek let him sleep for glorious restful hours each time.

It was also nice that he easily could check on Derek, since most dreams he had were about him and Derek was the only one he killed in his dreams, aside from Allison.

One night he woke up on the couch to Derek’s hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, let’s go to bed,” Derek said, and Stiles groaned and stretched before getting up to get ready.

When he was in his bed, after had changed to PJs and brushed his teeth, Derek came into his room.

“Do you want me to sleep in here?” he asked, and Stiles blinked at him. “You don’t dream on the couch when I’m there, so if you want to try in here, too?”

“Oh. Do you-. Is that okay with you?”

“I wouldn’t offer if it wasn’t,” Derek said with a smile.

“Okay. Yeah, if you want to, we can try,” Stiles said.

It was a whole new level of awkward, laying in bed with Derek.

“Relax,” Derek said, then he turned to his side and moved until he had his head against Stiles’ upper arm, and he put his hand on Stiles’ forearm. “Sleep.”

He sighed softly, it was a content little sound, and stroked his thumb over Stiles’ arm a couple of times.

“Yeah, okay,” Stiles said. “Good night.”

“Good night.”

• **•** •

_Derek was pinned to the wall, somehow. He was unharmed, but he was helpless, and Stiles smiled as he twirled the knives in his hands._

_“Don’t do it,” Derek said softly. “It’s not you, Stiles, it’s not your fault.”_

_Stiles smiled. “It is me,” he said._

“We like it,” _it said and Derek shook his head._

_“No, Stiles, it’s not you, it’s not your fault,” he insisted._

_Stiles lifted the knives, but Derek didn’t look scared, just calm, sure that Stiles wouldn’t hurt him, and Stiles screamed as he stabbed the knives into the wall, right above Derek’s shoulders._

“He’s beautiful, remember how beautiful he is,” _it said and there were new knives in Stiles’ hands._ “His pain is the tastiest, and we’re hungry, aren’t we?”

_“You’re okay, Stiles,” Derek said, smiling at him, not bothered at all by the knives Stiles was spinning._

_“You’re beautiful,” Stiles said and held one knife to Derek’s neck, trailed it along the tendon. “So beautiful, your pain-. No.”_

_He dropped the knives, that clanged loudly when they hit the floor, and Derek looked so pleased, so happy, so unharmed and_ alive _._

• **•** •

Stiles woke up with a thumb slowly stroking his wrist, and it took him a moment to figure out how. He was spooning Derek, holding his hand against Derek’s chest, and Derek was loosely holding onto his wrist.

“Morning,” Derek said. “Sleep well?”

“I didn’t hurt you,” Stiles breathed. “I didn’t hurt you.”

“You dreamed?” Derek asked.

“I had you, you were pinned, you were stuck, and I didn’t hurt you.” He held Derek tighter and leaned his forehead against the top of his back, and Derek squeezed his wrist gently. “I didn’t hurt you.”

“Good,” Derek said softly.

• **•** •

Stiles looked at the empty seat next to his. He and Scott had sat next to each other through all of high school, but now Scott was sitting with someone else. Stiles didn’t blame him. He’d miss him, but he didn’t blame him.

• **•** •

They had eaten, Stiles had helped Derek to cook, and he was doing the dishes when John came over to grab a glass from the cupboard above the sink. Stiles looked down at the knife he was holding, noted how the light gleamed on it, the suds almost making it glitter. He carefully scrubbed it before rinsing it.

“You doing okay, kid?” John asked and Stiles looked at him.

“Yeah,” he said. “I am.”

“Good, I’m glad.”

Stiles smiled as he put the knife away to dry.

• **•** •

_Lydia was laughing at something. It was night, Stiles had his sword, and Lydia wasn’t scared. He put the sword down and came over to her._

_“Look,” she said, eyes shining as she held out a puppy._

_“Oh, man,” Stiles said and gently petted it. “God, can I keep it?”_

_Lydia laughed again, happy and carefree, while Allison watched them from the shadows of a tree. She was smiling too, seemingly unaware of the sword through her torso, her dead eyes crinkled at the corners. Stiles smiled at her and she raised her hand in greeting, still smiling._

_“You think Prada wants a little brother?” Lydia asked before pressing kisses to the happy little puppy in her hands, the sun bathing everything in a golden light._

• **•** •

Stiles woke up with a gasp, and Derek’s voice was there immediately.

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” he murmured softly, despite having just been woken up himself.

Stiles clung to him, even as he turned around and wrapped an arm around Stiles to hold him close and softly stroke his back. It was hard to breathe, but only because he was crying so hard, not because of panic clogging his throat.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Derek sounded a little worried.

“It wasn’t bad,” Stiles choked out. “Fuck. Allison’s dead.”

“Not your fault,” Derek said softly and Stiles’ breath kept hitching as he sobbed against Derek’s chest.

• **•** •

They were in the store, looking at vegetables as usual. “Do you want to try something not vegan?” Derek asked.

“Uh.” Stiles really didn’t want that. “Like what?”

“Anything, just milk in something, or chicken, anything.”

“Not really, no,” Stiles said quietly.

“Okay,” Derek said. He put a hand on Stiles’ back as he steered him towards the beets. “That’s fine, I just wanted to make sure.”

“Thanks,” Stiles said and leaned against Derek a moment. Derek smiled at him before starting to pick out beets.

• **•** •

“I dreamt of Allison,” Stiles said quietly and Lydia looked up from her book. “She smiled at me, she was dead, but I didn’t kill her.”

“You _didn’t_ kill her,” Lydia said.

“I know, not-.” He wanted to say _not technically_ , but Lydia’s frown told him she knew exactly what he was thinking and that she wasn’t happy about it at all, so he smiled stiffly at her. “You wanted to get Prada a little brother.”

Lydia’s frowned vanished and she smiled softly. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, there were puppies, they were adorable.”

• **•** •

_John and Lydia was sitting on a blanket and Derek came up to Stiles. He smiled and took Stiles’ hand to tug him with him to the blanket._

_”Let’s sit,” Derek said._

_”Hi, son,” John said when he sat down, and Lydia smiled at him._

_They sat together, the sun high in the clear blue sky while they talked. Then Derek touched Stiles’ cheek and they were alone, standing next to the Camaro._

_Stiles smiled at him and Derek smiled back. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Stiles’ in a soft kiss, and when Stiles kissed back Derek’s hands guided Stiles’ head as he tilted his own a little to deepen the kiss._

• **•** •

Stiles looked up from his book when Derek sat down next to him on the couch.

“Hey,” Derek said and bumped their shoulders together. He was just reaching for his own book when Stiles spoke.

“I dreamed that you kissed me,” he said, and Derek’s hand paused in the air before he pulled it back.

“Did you want that?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah, I did,” Stiles said, looking down at his book.

“ _Do_ you want that?” Derek asked.

Stiles looked up at him and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Derek asked, a smile on his lips.

“Mhm,” Stiles said as he fiddled with the pages of his book nervously.

Derek leaned in, slowly, until their mouths were just shy of touching. “Then I can do this?” he asked and pressed a soft kiss to Stiles’ mouth. He pulled back immediately, not far, just so that he could see Stiles.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” Stiles said, smiling, and Derek smiled too as he leaned in again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated =) ♥
> 
> And if I've missed or forgotten a tag, PLEASE let me know!!


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